


Small Talks

by Theoroark



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/F, First Kiss, Love Confessions, Requited Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:49:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21608269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theoroark/pseuds/Theoroark
Summary: Something’s bothering Beau, and she isn’t talking to Jester about it. Jester will need to bother every other resident of the Xhorhaus if she wants to get to the bottom of this.
Relationships: Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 16
Kudos: 277





	Small Talks

For the last few weeks, Beau has been acting differently. She hasn’t been meeting Jester’s gaze as much. She’s been laughing less around her. Their conversations have been awkward.

Fjord says that Beau’s awkward in general, but Jester knows that’s not true. Beau just has a very thorough vetting process for who she lets in, and a lot of people get pissy and rude when she doesn’t pass them right away. Once you’re in, you know Beau’s a really thoughtful friend, the kind that figures out your favorite kind of tea without you having to say it. She’s there to reassure you before you even realize you’re insecure. And you get to do that for her, too. 

Or at least, Jester thought that was how things worked. Because this is how Beau acts when she has an issue, around other people. Only now she’s acting this way around Jester too. It’s a mystery. But luckily, Jester thinks, she has a tried and true method for solving mysteries. 

“I’m sure nothing’s wrong with Beau!” Nott tells her, when she asks. “I mean, you know her. She is so capable. So tough. Such a smart cookie, that one.”

Jester blinks. “Nott, I’m talking about Beau, not Caleb?”

“Yes, yes, I know! Beau is…” Nott looks out with a thousand yard stare for approximately a minute, seemingly waging a dire internal battle. “...as smart as Caleb. In a different way!” she finishes, finally. 

“Nott,” Jester asks. “Are _you_ okay?”

“Yes, yes. Never been better. Busy, though.” Nott shakes her head and waves her hand before Jester can ask what she means. “Why don’t you go talk to Beau, if you’re so worried? And here.” Nott fishes around in her pockets, and produces a flash of platinum. “Take this. It’ll make talking much easier, I think.”

Jester stares at her. “You’re giving me your flask?”

“Well, lending. And I mean, you already stole it from me once, so I know I can get it back from you!”

To Nott’s credit, Jester leaves that conversation having solved one part of the mystery. She knows now, for certain, that something is wrong with Beau. But whatever is wrong with her, Beau chose to confide in Nott, instead of Jester. And that makes her sicker than anything in Nott’s flask.

Jester goes to Yasha next. Fjord would say Yasha’s awkward too, and Jester doesn’t think he’s wrong, but that’s exactly why she wants to talk to her. Yasha’s awkwardness comes from the odd meld of her self-taught gentleness and her brutal past. Yasha treats kindness and companionship like new and precious gifts. Yasha may not be good at people, but she’s a very good person. She may not be good at giving advice, but her advice is sure to be good. 

Yasha’s brow knits at Jester’s confession. “I’ve tried to keep an eye out for everyone here,” Yasha says in a low, furtive tone, like Beau might be hiding in ceiling tiles. “I haven’t noticed anything staking out the house, or following us or anything. But I’m sure you all didn’t notice Obann’s grip on me.”

“I don’t think it’s something like that,” Jester tells her. “Or I really hope not, anyway. I think it’s like…”

Jester falls silent. Yasha waits, patiently and quietly. Yasha wouldn’t judge her, Jester knows that. 

But Jester would certainly judge herself. And admitting she thinks Beau’s upset with her feels inexplicably shameful. 

When Jester never finishes her sentence, Yasha speaks up. “Like I said,” she says, “I’ve been keeping an eye on people. And I really don’t think Beau’s mad at you.” She puts a hand on Jester’s folded hands. “I definitely know you haven’t done anything to hurt her.”

“We share a room,” Jester points out. “You’re not there. I could have said something shitty there.”

“Yeah, you could have. But you didn’t.” Despite everything, Yasha’s casual confidence makes Jester smile. “I’ll keep looking, but I really think you should talk to her, Jester. Whatever she’s dealing with, you’re really good at making people feel better.”

Jester leaves Yasha’s balcony feeling a bit better. But she’s still no closer to finding out what’s wrong with Beau. 

And Fjord’s no help. He tries– Jester knows that Fjord tries very hard, in so much of what he does. Jester tells him about her suspicions during his training session, where she holds a sandbag up with one hand and he wails on it with all his might. He’s out of breath as he leans against the burlap and thinks. 

“Haven’t heard anything,” he finally says. “Can’t think of anything, either. Dunno. Maybe she’s just in a mood?”

“Beau doesn’t have moods.” Fjord gives her a look, and she makes a face. “Really, she doesn’t. You just have to ask her, and you find out what’s going on.”

“I suppose,” Fjord says. “But I guess that begs the question. Why haven’t you asked her?”

Jester lets go of the sandbag and sits down. Fjord wheezes as he struggles to keep it upright, and she brings a knee up to help him. “I’m scared,” she tells him. 

“You shouldn’t be scared of Beau. Beau’s nicer to you than she is to anyone.”

“Yeah, but what if I screwed that up somehow?” Fjord’s face twists in sympathy. With a mighty effort, he leans forward and squeezes Jester’s shoulder. 

“You didn’t,” he says. “I promise. And even if you did, you’ll fix it in a second.”

Jester thanks him. Then she goes and talks to Caleb. Fjord knows a lot about people and not too much about Beau; Caleb doesn’t know a lot about people and knows more about Beau. Together, she reasons, she’ll have a complete, balanced perspective. 

That is, if Caleb can ever muster out a complete sentence. “Beauregard is, ah, a very obstreperous figure,” he says. Then he pauses and stares at her, hunched, for a moment. Jester sits and waits for him to stop, as has become her custom. 

“I do not believe you should be taking her behavior personally,” he finally continues. “She likes you… very much. I am positive she will be back to her normal, rowdy self within the week. Please don’t hold this against her.”

Now, it’s Jester’s turn to stare Caleb down. Even if Nott isn’t helping her with this case, she’s still a detective. So she notices how Caleb is meeting her gaze even less than normal, and how he’s prognosticating when he would normally try to remain safe and unaligned. 

“She told you something,” she announces. Caleb jolts in his seat. 

“What– I– no, no she did not!” His eyes dance around the study, and finally alight on his bedroom door. He grabs his books. “I really do need to concentrate on this Jester, if you’re just going to accuse me of such nonsense–“

“Fine, whatever, go.” Jester waves her hand as she turns on her heel. “I don’t want you to tell me anyway. Beau should have someone she trusts here, if she doesn’t trust me anymore.”

Caleb calls after her, but Jester really doesn’t want him to see her tear up. She doesn’t want anyone in the house to see her tear up. So she leaves the house, through the attic door. 

Caduceus is meditating when she climbs up, but his eyes snap open with the creak of the door. “You’re just in time,” he tells her, unbending himself from lotus pose. “I just put a kettle on the stove.”

“You always have a kettle on the stove, Caduceus.”

“How else can I have it ready in time?” Jester grins and sits at the patio table. She wipes at her eyes when Caduceus turns his back to her, busying himself with cups and containers. 

Caduceus knows anyway, though. When he comes back with his tea tray, he asks right away, “What’s bothering you?”

“Beau’s upset,” Jester says. “I’m worried she’s upset with me. I don’t know why.”

“That doesn’t seem like Beau,” Caduceus says. He pours the hot water into two cups, and hands one to Jester. She stares down into the tan, steaming surface.

“Well, it’s Beau right now,” she tells him. “What do you think is bothering her?”

“You know I can’t answer that for you.”

“I don’t, actually,” Jester says. She leans forward, propping her chin on her hands. “You’re pretty good at people, Caduceus.”

He snorts and raises his teacup. “You’re not bad yourself. Clearly.” Jester smiles and meets his toast, then sips. Caduceus has already put in cream and honey, just how she likes it. 

“I can tell you what I think,” Caduceus continues. “But I’m not Beau so at the end of the day, I don’t know. And I know you won’t you won’t be satisfied until you know.”

“You’re not me either. So really, you don’t _know_ I won’t be satisfied.”

“Will you be satisfied if you don’t know?” Jester scowls. Caduceus smiles and spreads his arms. “See how easy things are when you ask?”

“But I’m scared,” Jester says. For some reason with Fjord, she was able to say this matter-of-factly and calmly but under Caduceus’s easy gaze, she feels it strip her raw. Caduceus’s arms and smile drop. He leans forward across the table. He visibly thinks for a moment, his mouth a little open. 

“Okay,” he finally says. Jester stares at him. 

“Okay? Just okay?”

“There’s nothing I can say that will make you not scared, Jester,” he tells her. “And honestly, even when you talk to Beau, you’ll probably still be scared too. You’re scared because you care a lot about her, and you don’t want to lose her. You’re scared because you want to know you won’t lose her, and you can’t know that. So you’re going to be scared. But that’s okay.”

“It doesn’t feel okay,” Jester whispers. Caduceus scoots his patio chair closer to hers, the metal screeching against the stone. He wraps his arm around her and she leans into him, not caring about the fungi and lichen that cling to his clothes. 

“You’re always going to be capable of okay,” he says. Jester nods and blinks away her tears. Caduceus is good at people, good at advice, and a good person. But for some reason, those words don’t sit right with her. 

There’s no one left in the house for Jester now. She’s explored every avenue. There’s no off ramp for her. That night, when Beau comes into the room, too late and too quiet, Jester sits up and pulls out a light. 

Beau jumps in place. “Fuck, Jes,” she hisses. “Warn me!”

“Sorry,” Jester says. She slips the light under her sheet, so its glow is dulled. Beau blinks down at her, her face settling into something wary. 

“I didn’t know you were still up,” Beau says. 

“I waited for you,” Jester replies, and she doesn’t miss Beau’s flinch at that answer. 

“What’s going on?”

Jester clenches the blanket against the edge of the bed. “Yeah.”

“What?”

“Something’s going on with you,” Jester says. “Why won’t you tell me what it is?”

Beau sits down on her bed and turns her head away, seemingly busying herself with taking out her earrings. “Nothing’s going on,” she says, but Jester’s caught a glimpse of her pained expression. She knows, she’s so close to figuring this out, Beau’s not going to stop her now. 

“Something’s definitely going on,” she says. “I don’t understand why you’re not–” She rubs her eyes. “Was it something I did wrong?”

“What?! No, Jes!” Beau’s finally looking at her again, but now Jester has to look away. “You didn’t– look, I’m just an idiot, I’m sorry–”

“No, you’re not!” Beau was walking towards her but she stops short when Jester abruptly stands up from her bed. “You’re not an idiot, whatever’s bothering you is something real, and I don’t understand why you won’t let me fix whatever it is!”

“There’s nothing to fix,” Beau says. 

“Then what’s going on?”

“There’s nothing going on.”

“I don’t understand,” Jester says.

Beau takes a breath, and then she takes her hand. Jester looks into her eyes– they’re so pretty, Beau has these nice, thick eyelashes Jester would die for. She thinks about how there have been whispers of Beau behaving like this before– when Jester’s been especially effusive with her compliments, or she’s let Jester dress her up. She thinks about how Beau’s consumed her mind for these past few weeks, but also these past few months, how Beau’s always been there to lean on. She thinks about how scared she is of losing Beau. And then she understands.

Beau must see Jester leaning forward, and parting her lips. But Beau still gasps a little when Jester kisses her. Beau rallies and kisses her back, thankfully– Jester still feels horribly unpracticed with this. When they break, Jester feels warm and flushed, and Beau’s wearing a kind of giddy smile.

“You should have just talked to me,” Jester whispers. She’s gripping Beau’s coat tightly and refuses to let go, even as Beau maneuvers them so they’re lying down in her bed.

“I was scared,” Beau says. She looks confused when Jester laughs in response, but not hurt, so Jester just kisses her again and wraps her arms around her.

That night, holding Beau in her arms, Jester realizes why Caduceus’s assurance didn’t feel right to her. She might be capable of okay. But with Beau, she wanted much, much more than okay. He was right. Jester’s still scared that she’ll lose her.

But what she has to lose now is so much more than what she was. That may be terrifying, but that also makes Jester warm and proud and more. All from one talk.

She can’t wait to tell them all.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m [@tacticalgrandma](https://twitter.com/tacticalgrandma) on twitter if you want to talk to me there!
> 
> Thank you so much for reading, and any comments or kudos would mean the world to me 💜


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